Iron Heart
by Gre3nleaf
Summary: 5 times Peter called Tony his dad, and the 1 time Tony called Peter his son.
1. Chapter 1

**Iron Heart**

 **Hey there! I decided to have a go at the '5 times _ and the 1 time _' thing! Five more chapters will follow this, and I hope you enjoy!**

 **This is an AU in which May is dead and Tony has taken Peter in.**

* * *

 ** _1\. Peter accidentally refers to Tony as his dad while speaking to his teacher._**

Peter didn't have a dad. Not one that he could remember, anyway. He'd been so young when his parents died, and after Ben and May had taken him in, those two were all he'd ever known since. They were his mother and father if anything; they fed him, clothed him, cared for him, _loved_ him. He didn't disagree with the fact that his life had been pretty tough after Ben passed, but he kept going, because he still had May, and that was all he needed.

But then… what if _May_ died? What _then?_ Those had been thoughts which used to flow through his brain constantly, often messing with his mind. He'd never thought it would actually _happen,_ though. He'd believed at first it was normal for someone who'd lost pretty much everyone in their life but one to think about the sudden endless things that could go wrong. He guessed not. Maybe Parker luck was all bad.

Of course, Tony had taken him in immediately. The two were already pretty close before, but this just sealed all uncertainties in an unbreakable box. They helped with each other's pain, and all they had to do was just be there. Peter stayed by Tony's side at all times, and Tony stayed by Peter's. That was how it went for the first few months the teen was living in the Avengers Facility – nobody ever saw the two apart. Peter had lost his aunt and mother at the same time. He was broken, and Tony had been determined to fix that.

And in many ways, he had.

Even now, he was _still_ fixing him. And Peter was fixing Tony.

The two were lost without each other.

They _needed_ each other.

And that would never change.

* * *

"I can't believe we get to go to Paris!" Ned whispered excitedly, leaning over the desk slightly so Peter could hear. He glanced up at their history teacher, who was rattling on about something or other, and then looked happily towards his best friend. His face fell at the look he was met with. Peter's eyebrows were furrowed, and he was biting his bottom lip. "Peter? Are you okay?"

Peter took a deep breath, trying desperately to push away the thoughts currently clouding his mind. He was a mess up there; worries and anxieties and fears were colliding into each other and-

"Pete?"

He looked up. Ned was staring at him, concern written all over his face. "I'm okay," he said with a smile, "just… it's a week-long trip. I haven't left Mr Stark at all in over two months."

Ned sighed. He knew what his best friend was talking about – Peter hadn't really been the same since May died. His anxiety and nerves had been sky-high, and he'd declined every offer to come around to his for dinner or to build lego. He'd be picked up by Happy – or sometimes even Tony himself – after school and taken straight back to the facility where the man Ned had only met once or twice would be waiting.

"I know, dude," Ned said, "but it's _Paris!"_ He sat up as the teacher sent him a sharp glare for interrupting the class, quickly returning to his conversation – albeit a little quieter – afterwards. "How many times have we talked about going to France? Come on, it'll be great! You'll have _me!"_

Peter put his head in his hands and breathed deep, trying to make his mind up. On one hand, he'd only returned to school a little over three weeks ago and was admittedly pretty damn terrified of the thought of leaving Tony for seven days to go to a completely different country… but, on the other, everything Ned said had been true – the two of them had wanted to visit Paris since they'd met. It'd been a lifelong dream of theirs, and while he knew Tony could probably get them both on a plane to France whenever they wanted, it'd be extremely stupid of him to pass up on this trip. And, besides, if he _really_ felt uncomfortable and wanted to come home, Tony would make it happen. "Okay," he said, a little shakily, "I'll go. But, please… I don't mean to sound needy or whatever, but-"

"I won't leave you, Pete, I promise."

"Thanks, Ned."

* * *

Peter was surprised to be asked to stay behind after class to talk with his history teacher. "I'll wait outside," Ned said, giving his best friend a little wave before following the rest of the students out the door.

"Mr Oakes?"

The older man glanced behind him from where he was writing on the white board, a small smile making its way onto his face. "Hey, Peter! Yeah, I just wanted to ask a quick question. I won't keep you long." He stepped away from the board and over to his desk, seating himself on the chair while Peter fiddled awkwardly with the strap of his school bag.

Mr Oakes clicked a few things on his computer before turning to the teen stood in front of him. The look on his face was a little more serious, now, though Peter tried not to let it worry him too much before he'd even heard what it was he had to say. "How are you today, Peter?"

Unexpected.

"I'm… fine? I think?"

"You sound unsure?" The teacher didn't sound nasty… he sounded _concerned._

The teen put on a brave face and smiled warmly at the man, attempting to assure him he was perfectly okay. "I'm doing great, Mr Oakes. _Better._ I'm doing better." At least _that_ part was true.

Mr Oakes smiled back a little sadly, but quickly changed the subject. "Right, so, this is about the trip to Paris. I expect you're thinking about coming with us?"

"Um, yes, yeah. Just… yeah, I am."

"Good! That's great, Peter. As you probably know, it's mandatory that we send permission slips home for parents or guardians to sign, of course letting us know who's allowed on the trip and who isn't. For some reason, the school wants us to email the slips this year – something about saving paper – instead of printing them ourselves. Now, I have, uh…" He trailed off, and Peter mentally prepared himself for what he knew was inevitably about to come out of his teacher's mouth.

"-I've got your Aunt May's email address here, and… ah. God. I'm sorry, Peter, would you like me to stop?"

Peter shook his head, biting his lip. "No, Sir, it's alright. Carry on." Mr Oakes looked unsure, but sighed and continued. "I need your current guardian's email address. The school hasn't gotten around to changing it from your Aunt's, yet, and I'd like to have it for myself anyway, if you wouldn't mind, just to keep in contact with whoever is looking after you and be there in case you need me. Is that too invasive?"

"No, that's fine. Thank you."

"Great. Do you, uh… are you staying with anyone right now?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah, I'm staying with Mr, um… a family friend." "Right. Could you-" he reached across his desk and grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen, "-just scribble down the email right there?"

"Sure." Peter picked up the pen and bent down to write Tony's personal email on the paper, thinking it would be better than one of the emails fans usually sent messages to that never got answered. He didn't mind the idea of both his teacher and Mr Stark keeping in touch… maybe it would help him out a little more.

He snapped the lid back on the pen and smiled faintly, handing the sheet back to Mr Oakes. The man smiled back and briefly glanced down at the writing. He quickly did a double-take, an almost bewildered expression finding its way onto his face in no time. "Peter… 'tonys '? This- this is _Tony Stark's_ email?"

The teen really should have expected something like this, if he was being honest. Jeremy Oakes was a new teacher to the school, and he'd been laying low with his internship for several months now, therefore the older man would've had no clue at all that Peter even _knew_ the guy. He sighed and shrugged, a half-hearted smile gracing his lips. "Yeah. I'm living with him."

The teacher stared, mouth hanging open the slightest bit. "You know- how do you _know_ him?"

A quick glance to the door told Peter that Ned, who was currently bouncing outside in the hallway, was getting fairly impatient, and the look on Mr Oakes's face told him he really wasn't going to be going anywhere any time soon what with the inevitable onslaught of questions he was about to be asked. Suddenly, without any control, he blurted out the first words that came to his mind. "He's my dad, Mr Oakes. Can I go now, please?"

The room went silent. The only sound came from the ticking of the clock on the wall. Mr Oakes was leaning against his desk, dark eyes pinned on the student stood in front of him. His mouth was a gaping hole, and Peter bet he could shoot a string of web in there without him knowing. The teen's cheeks were quickly getting red, the hotness of the blood rising to his skin making it obvious that he was probably looking like a _tomato_ right now. The quietness of the room immediately broke, however, when Ned knocked on the door and poked his head inside. "Hey, uh, sorry to interrupt, but-" he looked at his best friend, "-Happy's here to pick you up. I think he's getting impatient."

Peter nodded, hiking his bag up a bit further before staring at his teacher a little embarrassingly. "He's- he's not my _dad,_ Mr Oakes. I'm sorry, I dunno where that came from. He's just… he's just my mentor. I have an internship at Stark Industries… so, yeah. He gave me a room there. He feeds me, takes me to school, whatever. But, that's it. Nothing else. I barely know him."

The teacher looked a little unsure, but he nodded anyway, letting out the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding in. "Right… yes, right, of course. Well, count yourself lucky, Peter! My kids would die to even catch a _glimpse_ of Tony Stark! This is his personal email, correct?"

"Yeah."

"I'll be speaking to him… directly?"

"Uh… yes."

"Right." He gulped. "Not intimidating at all," he mumbled quietly, and Peter couldn't help but smile slightly. Tony really was a genuine guy, and he'd probably (definitely) show Mr Oakes that he was most _certainly_ more than 'just a mentor' to Peter in no time.

A huge beep of a car startled the teen, and he turned his head towards the door, seeing Ned with an almost desperate look in his eyes. Mr Oakes seemed to get the gist. "You can go, Peter. Sorry to keep you waiting. I'll get to sending this email to Mr Stark as soon as I can."

Peter nodded and waved a little before jogging towards the door. "What took you so long?" Ned asked as the two walked across the hallway as quick as they could without being reprimanded for running.

Peter sighed. "Never mind."

Had he really just called Mr Stark his _dad?_ He mentally groaned. _Why?_ That was just… it wasn't _like_ that!

… right?


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry for the long wait, guys! Here's chapter 2. Enjoy!**

* * *

 ** _2\. Peter loses track of time while on patrol, and Tony isn't happy about it._**

Peter hadn't _meant_ to stay out on patrol two hours later than he should have, but he did. He blamed the cute cats he just _had_ to stop and pet while swinging through the streets.

Of course, nothing ever _meant_ to happen with Peter Parker. He'd simply lost track of time and somehow forgot Tony's rule of "come home at eleven pm." He hadn't really thought about looking up to the sky for just a brief second and figuring out that the it was pitch black, covered in stars, and _well_ past eleven. It wasn't that he _hated_ the rule – he knew Tony was only thinking of him when it came to exam season and getting in enough sleep – but he wished he had just a little more time. Still, this didn't get rid of the fact that this hadn't meant to happen at _all_. Usually, Tony would check his watch, see that it was one minute to eleven, sigh and shake his head at the fact that Peter still hadn't come home and begin to leave his workshop and head upstairs to wait for the rebellious child, only for Peter to come swinging in through the door when the clock reached _exactly_ eleven pm, face as red as his suit and breaths coming in heavy gasps. There'd still be a giddy smile on his face, though. The one thing that had driven Tony away from lecturing him every damn time.

Of course, Karen had completely given up telling Peter that it was time to head home. The kid would readily comply, swing to the next building, find a cat perched on the roof and then spend the next hour petting it. Then, another cat would join and ask for Peter's attention, and then another, and then another… until the AI decided it would probably be best to just call Tony and let him do the speaking.

"Calling Mr Stark."

Peter's eyes widened at the sound of Karen's voice and the sudden tell-tale _'beep, beep'_ of the phone ringing which followed after. "Karen!" he squealed (though he'd never admit he did). The cat in his lap meowed and nudged his side in an effortless attempt to get the kid's hand back on her belly. Peter, however, was not focusing entirely on the cat for once in his short life. He checked the time and his mouth dropped open the tiniest bit as '12:47' blinked back at him. He stared at it for a while until the white light (that he could have _sworn_ was mocking him) became too much for his eyes.

He tried all he could to get Karen to hang up, even going so far as to quickly attempt to get out of the suit before his mentor answered. Nevertheless, as Parker luck so _loved_ to follow him around everywhere, the beeping he had wanted so badly to stop but now was practically _begging_ to keep going went silent. With a hint of hope, Peter ventured to ask the question that would inevitably tell him if he was grounded or not. "Um… Karen?" There was a slight break in his voice, and his hands were growing increasingly hot and sweaty. Deep down, he knew his AI hadn't ended the call, but he'd had to at least try.

"This is Mr Stark."

Peter could tell the man wasn't exactly… _pleased_ with him. His voice had adopted an almost firm tone, something he rarely ever used with him. He gulped. "Uh, y-yes. I know. Hi, Mr Stark, sir."

"Yeah, hi. Wanna tell me why you're… hm, let's see. Two. Hours. _Late_?"

Peter didn't even notice the cats moving off him one by one, distaste in their steps as they pranced off; he was way too focused on trying to calm his breathing and pin all his attention on the man's voice. It wasn't that he was _scared_ of the man, per se, he just… _well_. It was easier to handle when he was in a good mood, as you'd probably expect.

Apparently, he was thinking too much to figure out an answer, because Tony did something. He cleared his throat.

Peter would have screamed if he hadn't clapped his hand over his mouth.

"Peter, you better give me an answer, 'cause I'm not happy right now."

The kid felt his heart swell with something he hadn't felt since Tony took the suit from him. Shame. Like he had let the only man he cared about – the only man he had left – down. That he'd broken Tony's trust and he'd never be allowed back at the compound and he would hate him forever and he'd take back what he said about getting him into MIT and he'd never let him wear the Spider-Man suit again and he'd never give it back and he'd tell all the cats in the world never to go near him again and-

"Kid, stop thinking what you're thinking, okay?" Tony's voice broke though his thoughts, voice sounding a little softer yet that sternness was still there. "You know it's not gonna happen, you know we're gonna sort this out, and you know nothing's gonna change. D'you hear me?" It never ceased to amaze Peter how much Tony knew him. Nobody had _ever_ been able to read him that well (save for maybe Ned) when they were standing right in _front_ of him, never mind on the other end of a _phone_.

"I-I guess…" So, he'd found his voice. Probably not as fortunate as you'd think.

The kid could imagine the billionaire's eyebrows shooting up to his hairline and his face adopting that 'are you serious?' look with the next words he spoke. "You _guess_? Kid, I love you, okay? That enough proof for you that everything's gonna be fine?"

Peter nodded, though Tony couldn't see him, and gulped yet again. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Right, then. I expect you're heading home right now?"

Peter had never swung into motion so fast. His eyes widened and a string of web zoomed out of his shooter simultaneously and so fast he could feel his blood rushing through his body. "Uh, yeah! Yeah, of course, Mr Stark! En compound route- I mean, en route to… the compound… uh." He faltered.

"You're coming back?"

"Yes. Yes. Exactly that." Why hadn't he just said he was on his way to begin with?

"Okay. So, let's start talking."

 _Why?_ "Okay."

"You're late, Peter."

"Y-yes. Yes, I am, and I'm so sorry, Mr Stark, I swear-"

"Yeah, okay. Why are you late?"

The kid gasped slightly as he almost missed catching the end of his web, grappling with it for a moment and cursing his nerves for making him slip. He _never_ slipped. "You alright, Pete?"

 _Pete._

Somehow, that made him feel better already.

"Yeah, just… slipped."

"Okay. Wanna tell me, then?"

' _Yeah, Mr Stark, I was playing with a bunch of cats like the five-year old I am.'_ "I got side-tracked."

"Side-tracked, hey?"

"Yep."

"How?"

"There, uh- well. There were some, you know…"

He heard Tony sigh on the other end and bit his lip, still swinging from building to building and not really bothering to check whether people were watching him or not. "Pete," came the man's voice, "just tell me."

"Okay, well, uh, there, um… uh. Oh _my_ \- okay. There were cats, Mr Stark, okay? There were cute little cats everywhere and Karen told me I should head home and so I did but then I _had_ to stop and stroke this little kitty – I named him Tony, by the way – and then, oh my God, Mr Stark, you should've _seen_ them! All these cats came out of nowhere and I really tried, sir, but I just couldn't leave, you know? I mean, Bruce was on my lap, and Wolf was climbing up my back, and you- I mean, Tony was licking my hand, and Tasha just wouldn't stop _meowing_ at me! They were just… they were so _cute_ , Mr Stark. Please don't be mad." His voice went quiet at the end, as if he were about to cry (from the utter adorableness of the kittens or from the possible disappointment his mentor may currently be feeling, he had no clue whatsoever) and both ends of the line went silent.

Tony didn't quite know what to say. He'd expected the culprit to be cats, if he were being honest – it definitely wouldn't be the first time those little creatures stopped him on the street when they were walking together and the billionaire would keep moving and talking until he realized the kid had stopped several blocks back – but he had _not_ expected that outburst.

One thing for sure, he was getting that kid a damn kitten.

"Okay, Pete, calm down. Listen, I'm not- I'm not mad. Don't think I am."

"You _seemed_ it…"

"I was a tad frustrated that you're two hours late home, but that's it."

Peter grimaced at the reminder. "I'm _really_ sorry," he apologised, "but I promise I'll go to bed as soon as I get home, and I'll cut revision time back a little in the morning so I can sleep for longer, and I _swear_ I won't be tired-"

"Kid, honestly, I don't care about your bedtime right now."

Unexpected. "You don't?"

"No. What I _care_ about is the fact that anything could have happened to you in those two hours. I _mean_ it, Peter, _any_ thing. I tell you to come home at eleven because I then have a set time I know you'll be back. Of course, I want you well rested for your exams, but I also… I guess…" Now _he_ was stumbling on his words, goddammit. _He_ wasn't the one being reprimanded, here! He sighed, putting his head in his hands from where he was sat on a seat by the door to the compound, waiting for the kid to get back. "The world's a dangerous place, buddy. Seriously. I'm not just saying that. There are- there are people out there. _Bad_ people that will do anything to get their hands on Spider-Man. I just need to know you're safe, okay? If you're not home by eleven, then I know something may be wrong, and I can look into it. That's why I'm so strict about these rules. I can't have you getting hurt; on my watch, on _anybody's_ watch. It's _not_ happening."

Peter bit his lip harder, feeling guilt swell inside his stomach. He looked up, tears shining in his eyes, and saw the compound in the distance. He sniffed. "I understand, sir."

"I know you do."

"I won't do it again."

"I know you won't." And he did. He knew it. He could tell the kid was probably a little overwhelmed at the moment by what he'd said, and was most likely also feeling slightly upset by his words. Peter wasn't one to have to be told off for something, whether it be by himself, someone else in the compound, or one of his teachers. He was a good boy. And this changed absolutely _nothing_.

"Hey, Mr Stark? Why didn't you call me _earlier_ and ask where I was?"

This was where Tony's face scrunched up a little in what could only be described as embarrassment. He coughed slightly. "Uh, definitely didn't fall asleep. Nope. Not me."

Peter laughed, and the carefree sound brought joy back to the billionaire's heart as he stood and walked closer to the door, seeing the kid a little further away. "The great Mr Stark fell asleep? Wow. Whatever will become of you?"

Tony chuckled. "I know, right? It's a disgrace. FRIDAY woke me up and told me you still weren't home, but I didn't want to phone you, if we're being honest, here."

"You didn't? How come?"

"Because I thought something might have happened. I checked your location and you weren't moving like you would have been if you were swinging… you were still. And I thought that… maybe you'd been kidnapped or you'd run into trouble… or worse. I didn't want to ring you and get no answer."

"I was playing with cats."

"Yeah, you were. Would've been nice to know."

"So… you were scared?"

Tony make a face. "I wouldn't say _scared_ , exactly," he insisted, "just… slightly concerned."

"Slightly."

"No more than that."

At this point, a flash of red swung through the open door, landing perfectly behind the billionaire. Peter turned and slipped off his mask, a grin plastered on his face. "Of _course_ , dad."

"Of course." Tony rolled his eyes and hung up the phone, tossing it onto the couch before moving towards his boy. "C'mere, you." His arms opened and Peter crashed into them, burying his face in the man's shirt and clinging onto the fabric. There was a happy smile gracing his lips, which made Tony smile. "Don't you ever do anything like that again, you hear me?" he asked, landing a well-aimed poke to the boy's side.

Peter giggled and batted his hand away, nodding. "I won't."

"Good."

"Hey… am I grounded?"

Tony rose both eyebrows. "Do you think you _should_ be?" he asked as he crossed his arms.

Peter felt awkwardly put on the spot, fidgeting with his fingers and shuffling his feet. "Um, I, uh, I-I _guess_ , yeah? I… I don't know."

The billionaire had to chuckle at the kid's stuttering, reaching down to ruffle his hair. "You're not grounded. I know you won't do it again."

Peter smiled up at the man. "Sorry… again."

"Yeah, you've said. Stop it. I'm getting bored of the word. It's all sorted. Now, what was that about you heading straight to bed as soon as you got home?"

The kid's eyes widened and he stepped back. "Right! Yeah. Okay, I'll go, then. G'night, Mr Stark!"

"Night, buddy. Also, don't you set that alarm earlier than half six, alright? I'll know if you do!" He made the 'I'm watching you!' gesture with his fingers, causing Peter to give a cheeky salute before rushing off to his room.

Tony watched him go with a sparkle in his eyes. One could call it pride, or adoration, or, to the more watchful people, love. It was clear as day that Tony Stark loved his young intern more than he'd ever admit. He felt happy when Peter showed him his good grades, he felt delighted when he showed him a new trick he'd learned with his suit, and he felt elated when he helped him with his Iron Man suit and managed to improve something not even he would have thought of. He felt so much pride for Peter. Like he was _his_ boy. _His_. He cared for him as well as mentored him. _Hell_ , out of all the empty rooms in the compound, the kid's one was right next to Tony's. It was no secret to anyone in the building that Peter Parker was so much more than an intern to Tony Stark, especially since May had died…

It was like this little beacon of light – of _hope_ – had entered his life and turned it around in the best of ways.

And, as the man began to make his way back to his own room, a smile on his lips and love in his heart, he remembered two things.

The first one was that Peter had named a cat after him.

And the second, was that he had called him _dad._


End file.
